


Another Side of the Story Part V

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-06
Updated: 2012-07-06
Packaged: 2019-01-19 20:38:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12417720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: After he has left St Mungo's, Severus tries to pick up the bits and pieces of his life, and come to terms with his demons of the past by living an undercover life in Oxford.





	1. Part V Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

<b>Part five</b>

<b></b>

1

 

The house smelt musty. 

Well of course it did, thought Severus, as he closed the door behind him. He had to push twice before it fell in the lock. The cheap wood had probably expanded due to humidity.

The sitting room didn’t make a very cheerful sight either. The only window had always been too small to catch a lot of light, but now that it hadn’t been cleaned in Merlin knows how many months or years, the room looked even gloomier than it usually did. 

He flicked his wand to light the only oil lamp the room counted and sat down on the seat next to it. 

Now what was he going to do next? 

His eyes ran over the bookcase opposite him. 

There used to be times when Severus was never to be caught in a spare moment without a book in his hand. It was high time he took up that habit again. 

He pointed his wand at one of the thinner books and summoned it towards him. Its red cover had nearly completely faded. <i>A Modern View on Anglo-Saxon Medical Techniques </i>– dated 1952. He sent it back and selected another one from the next bookcase. <i>Silas Marner</i>. He bit his lip. A story written by George Elliot. He was still suffering from heavy headaches and his memory was very blurred at times, but her name brought him back to his luxurious private quarters at Hogwarts and the girl who had hit upon another George Elliot novel, when she was lying in his bed.

Strange how his irritation at Billie’s presence at the hospital had completely evaporated now. These were the things that happened to him all the time these days. One moment he was blinded with fury, and the next, he couldn’t even understand what the anger had all been about. 

Ah well… he supposed it would all improve as his recovery progressed further.

He opened the book but his head hurt too much for him to be able to concentrate, so he closed it after a few sentences already. He shut his eyes and took a nap. 

 

His sleep was little refreshing, though. He awoke in low spirits, and vaguely recalled seeing his father in his dream. There had been some disturbance, as usual, but of course he couldn’t remember what the dream had been about. Sitting here, in the very chair his father used to sit in didn’t really help to put his past behind him and start a new life. 

He sat thinking for a while. He had hardly been here for a few hours and already the house started to depress him. He wondered if he shouldn’t leave again. And sell the place altogether. 

He picked up a newspaper from the pile he had brought back from St Mungo’s and which he had never looked at because Bille had recommended him not to do so. For no reason in particular, he gritted his teeth at the memory of that and nearly ripped the paper in two when he opened the front page. 

As another wave of fury was passing through him, he waited for it to subside before he turned his attention to the first article. 

There was little of interest there, so he flicked through the paper and scanned the headlines and threw it aside. Then he picked another one.When he had arrived on the fourth page, his hands suddenly froze. 

He was staring into his own eyes.

The article was about the mystery of his lost body. 

Severus’s eyebrows rose. He would not have expected the Prophet to be spending ink on that. It wasn’t as if they had no other news to report and were desperate for nonsense like this to fill their paper. 

He threw that one aside as well and picked yet another one. Again there was an article on his so-called disappearance. Several people claimed they had spotted him. One in the south of Spain, when he was sitting in one of the many British pubs the place counted. Then a witch swore she had ran into him at Mr Gigli’s Grocery Store in North London, which, very strangely, seemed to coincide with another sighting in Liverpool when he was said to have been walking his poodle. 

Severus sighed and angrily flicked to another page where again, he caught his own name written in capitals. Some nutter had written a book on him: <i>Sigfried Spearhead’s Unauthorised Biography of an Undercover Hero. </i>

For God’s sake, he didn’t even know the man!

After he had angrily thrown this, and other copies he had browsed, away from him, he sat fuming for a while, and thinking about the little he had learnt. The wizarding world obviously thought he was dead, and his body was very nearly the subject of a new series of crusades. Should he contact the Prophet and come out into the open?  But then all attention would be drawn towards him and he would lose control over his own life. 

He decided that he was in no mood for that yet. Also, according to the Prophet, Spinner’s End was regularly receiving visitors nowadays, either believers who hoped to find a trace of his body there, or non-believers, who expected to run into him in the street where his parents’ home stood. 

No, he had to get away from here, and spend some time in the Muggle World. 

He thought about his money at Gringotts. The vault would probably still be there with no heirs to claim its not indecent content. But he didn’t feel like going there, and besides, his money would be of little use in the Muggle world anyway. There was a small deposit book in one of the Muggle banks Spinner’s End counted. And he could sell the house. 

He got up; rubbed his brow when he sudddenly felt a shot of pain and waited for it to subside. Then he walked to the front door and leftin search of a property seller in the village’s main street.

 

He was lucky. The property agent told him that a large investment company had let its eye fall on the old textile factory that had dominated the village for a couple of centuries, and even more so on its former workers’ council houses. The idea was to change the whole area into a congress centre, annex four-star hotel for business people from the nearest big city, with next to it a club where families could enjoy the facilities and stay in separate appartments, which would be built on the site of the present terraced houses. The investment company was just about to send offers to all the different owners, so if Severus agreed with the sum they offered for the purchase, it could all be over and done with very quickly.

 

And so after a few days, Severus ended up with a small capital which, together with his other deposits, gave him the opportunity to take it easy for a while and carefully think about what he was going to do with his life next, or rather, how he was going to provide for himself. 

As soon as the sale was concluded and the money paid in his muggle account, he arranged for his books to be stored in a warehousing firm. The furniture and the cooking gear he left for the investment company, or for whoever broke into the house and stole it before the bulldozers came. 

Then he left for Oxford. He had decided that what he wanted to do most was sit in a library and study muggle chemistry. 

 

Despite the fact that his life became more and more purposeful as he sat reading muggle essays in the university library and started to correct them, his temper grew increasingly worse. The smallest incident, or not even that: the tiniest detail that was not to his liking made him explode with fury.He stayed in a small room he rented above a snackbar where he had also picked up the habit of taking his lunch every day. 

It was a small not really sophisticated place which he had preferred above all others because the food was surprisingly good, the prices low and his landlady friendly and easy-going. In fact, it was more than that: Julie was a good-looking, intelligent lady in her early thirties. She was running the snackbar together with her boyfriend Jim, who was mostly working in the kitchen and there was something about her that made Severus immediately feel at home with her, which he hardly ever had with anyone else. 

On an ice-cold December day, when he came in with the prospect of having a good shephard’s pie for lunch but was told by Julie that she had run out of them, he got flamingly mad and smashed the porcelain piggy bank she kept on her counter for tips. Coins flew all over the place, which, together with the loud bang and the sound of shattering porcelain immediately had a sedative effect on Severus. 

“Sorry,” he muttered. 

Julie calmly studied his angry face for a while but didn’t reply. And then she looked away. 

“Anything else you would like for lunch?”

“Yes… I will have a bowl of soup and a club sandwich. Thank you”. 

He turned away from her and went to sit at his usual table in the corner of the room. He shouldn’t have become so violent. It wasn’t in his nature, and yet, incidents like this increasingly occurred nowadays.

A few minutes later Julie brought him his soup, but instead of putting it down and walking away again, she lowered herself in the chair opposite him. 

“Do you often have these outbursts?” she asked after a while.

He shrugged. 

“And have you always had them, or is it a recent phenonemon?” .

“Why do you ask?”

“Well… I have been observing you for a while and I think you are going through a depression”. 

“A what?”

“A depression. Have you suffered any traumatic experiences lately?”

“Why should you care if I have?” he asked, ladling his soup. 

“I’m a psychologist. And Jim’s a doctor by the way”

He looked up from his bowl. “You do not seriously want me to believe that, do you?”

“Oh yes,” she said, “I know that it isn’t the most common thing to find people like us running a snackbar, but I had a burnout sometime ago and Jim, being from Chechnia, can’t get his diploma easily recognised here in the UK”. 

“I see,” said Severus, turning his attention back to the soup he was stirring, “Well since you ask; yes, I have been through a traumatic experience. I have come out of a coma a couple of weeks ago and before that I might even say, without wanting to sound too pitiful, that my whole life had been a traumatic experience”. 

“You see… that’s exactly what I thought”. 

She crossed her fingers and calmly observed him as he finished his sandwich. When he looked up again, he frowned. 

“What is it? What do you intend to do with me now? Not lay me down on a sofa and cross-examine me, I hope?”

“No… not at all. What medicin has the hospital given you when they dismissed you?”

“None at all”. 

“That’s impossible,“ she said, “No doctor in his right mind would release you in such a state without at least giving you some kind of medicin!”

Severus uncomfortably shifted in his chair. “Well… they did not”. 

“They didn’t do what?”

“They did not release me,” he explained, “I left on my own initiative”. 

Julie was professional enough not to show her disapproval and she didn’t comment either. She got up from her chair instead to serve a new customer.

 

But Julie didn’t leave it at that. A couple of days later she cornered him as he sat eating his sandwich in an otherwise deserted snackbar. He looked up when he heard Julie lower the Japanese curtains.

“Closing already?” he asked not too friendly.

“Yep”. She turned the key in the doorlock and turned the “closed” sign around and sat down opposite him. 

“You’re not Thomas Smith, are you?” she blurted out.

Severus’s jaws froze on his hunk of sandwich. 

“I know you’re not,” she continued, “I’ve read about you”. 

He fixed her with a seemingly unimpressed stare but a heart racing like mad. 

Julie crossed her arms, seemingly as little intimidated as him. “At my mum’s place. She reads the Daily Prophet, you know. You were on its cover”.

Severus audibly gulped now and the look in his eyes had turned a lot less confident. 

“How was I supposed to help you deal with your trauma if you were going to lie to me about your past?”

“I do not recall having consented to therapy,” he remarked, with a bit of his usual sneer in his voice.

“You don’t seriously think that I’m going to leave you in this state, are you?” snorted Julie. “I may not be a psychoanalyst in practice but I’m still paying my union fee  and I can’t afford to be accused of professional negligence”.

“Are you a witch?”

“No, a squib,” she said bluntly, “In such a degree that my parents didn’t even bother to send me to Hogwarts when I was eleven”.

She sat watching the traces of concern in his face for a while. 

“Are you in hiding?” she asked, “Is that why you took a false name?”

Severus sighed. “Is there anywhere I <i>can</i> hide I wonder? I lived under the impression that I was safely surrounded by Muggles – both at the university and here, and there you are!”

“Don’t worry, <i>Severus</i>, I won’t give you away,” said Julie, “I suppose you had a good reason for hiding and I’ll respect that.”

“What about Jim?” asked Severus bad-tempered.

“Jim knows but nobody else does. You’re safe with us,” she smiled, “And you should consider yourself lucky that you didn’t fall into a Muggle psychologist’s hands. It would have been tricky to hide your true identity under hypnosis”. 

“You’re not going to hypnotise me, are you,” snapped Severus.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she said lightly, “Anything that is necessary to get you back in normal spirits, I should say”. 

She leaned a little closer to him. “Trust me, Severus,” she said, “You can’t go on like this and I’m quite good. I’ll help you. I promise”. 

He looked down at his slightly trembling hands. She was probably right. It didn’t look as if he had a choice. Besides, there was very little to lose. Even if he thought very little of shrinks he supposed an occcasional chat couldn’t hurt.

 

So from that day onwards, they daily hadprivate conversations and every day, Severus went deeper and deeper into his past and revealed more to her than he would ever have held possible. 

The conversations didn’t substantially change a lot, but, very slowly, they helped him put a couple of things in perspective. Especially when Jim got involved too, who appeared to be specialised in trauma,Severus very slowly got back to his normal self again. His outbursts became fewer in number until they stopped altogether, and with that came back his usual cynicism, sarcasm and a permanent melancholic feeling in the pit of his stomachat he couldn't quite define.

 

When the darkest days of winter were over, the Christmas decorations long removed and the sun doing a feeble effort to bring back some warmth into the streets and parks of Oxford, he experienced a sensation that he had long forgotten. 

It happened when he was sitting on a bench, catching some fresh air after a couple of hours of deep concentration over an essay that, in his opinion, wasn’t even worth the name. 

A few days before, Severus had decided that he wanted to write a book that would undermine some theories championed by students and evenprofessors at the Department of Chemistry. 

It wasn’t that they were completely wrong, but with his vast knowledge of potions and herbs there was quite a bit that he could improve, even if he wouldn’t be able to reveal his magical skills.

He was sitting in the late afternoon sun, huddled in the winter coat and scarf he had bought at a - to his taste - respectable shop, with his legs stretched out in front of him, pondering over a theory he had been reading about the use of fluoxetine as an antidepressant, when his attention was distracted by a young couple that enthusiastically greeted each other at just a few paces ahead of him. 

The girl had her back turned towards him but there was something familiar about her; in fact, she looked so familiar that his heart skipped a beat and a strange feeling of weakness spread over his limbs. 

He couldn’t tear his gaze away when the couple started to chat. They were obviously quite fond of each other, and witnessing the proof of this affection caused another unpleasant sensation with Severus. 

But then the girl turned towards him and he realised that he didn’t know her at all. There was absolutely nothing familiar in her face, nor in any other part of her body, except perhaps for the long blonde hair she had.It reminded him of Billie’s... even if Billie’s was much longer, thicker and much more beautiful. 

Billie as a whole was infinitely more beautiful.

Billie… 

He had deliberately refused to think about her in the last months and had made himself believe that she, and her love for him, meant nothing to him, but he knew somewhere in the deepest of his heart that he was fooling himself.When he had decided to come here, it had indirectly been for her, for he might as well have gone to Cambidge or any other place where they had a university that dealt with chemistry. Whenever he had entered a shop or a bar in Oxford he had scanned the place,unconsciously hoping that she would run into him and that they could have a private word about all the things that had passed between them. There were still a lot of gaps in his memory, especially about his days at St Mungo’s but a lot had returned to it too: he remembered the stubborness with which she had believed in him; the determination with which she had stuck to him when things were at their darkest; the experience they had shared of helping Harry Potter to the Sword of Gryffindor; the pleasant evening they had passed in his private quarters at Hogwarts, and other tiny details which he had greatly come to appreciate now. 

Dear Billie. 

He vaguely recalled having snapped at her and up till that day, he had no idea why he had done that. He didn’t even remember what he had said to her, or what it had been that had put him in such a fury. But the fact was that she had left, deeply shocked, and that she had never returned. 

And here he sat, on a bench in Oxford, her hometown, missing her, and realizing this made him feel a tiny little better: at least he knew now what it was that he was missing, and why he felt so depressed at the look of the couple over there. The girl had greeted her friend with such warmth that Severus was painfully reminded of the way Billie had always greeted him. 

Anyway, he thought after a while, all was lost now. There was no point wishing their argument at St Mungo’s had never happened. Even if he couldn’t recall the exact circumstances, there must have been something that had irritated him so much that he had become aggressive. 

And yet… could it have been so significant? Julie’s porcelain piggy bank hadn’t exactly done anything wrong either when he decided to smash it, had it? 

He went back to the library and his notes after that. When the mind was troubled, complicated scientific formulas were the best thing to calm it down again.

 

But since that day, he permitted himself to think more often of Billie. He even brought her up in his talks with Julie after tea. And he mentioned Lily too. And the more he talked about Billie and thought of her, the more memories came back to him and the more he realised what a terrible loss it was for him to not be in touch with her anymore.

“She sounds like a delightful girl to me,” said Julie one evening, when they were both sipping from a cup of hot chocolate. 

After several days of spring, the weather had turned nasty again with loads of rain and chilly evenings. “What does she not have that she should? Or have you forbidden yourself to fall in love with her because of Lily?”

As usual, her question was straight into the face. 

“It is not your diplomacy that has made your reputation in this part of town, is it?” remarked Severus. 

“Don’t hide in sarcasm, Severus,” she said, “You can’t escape from me”. 

“No, I know,” he replied. 

He thought for a while. “There is nothing wrong with Billie. She has everything a young woman should have”. 

“That’s what I thought too,” said Julie, “So what is it then? Is she too perfect and therefore boring?”

“Of course she is not boring. And she is far from perfect”.

“Why? What is it that you don’t like in her?”

“Nothing”. And he meant it. He had been racking his brain, trying to find the very thing that could have caused his irritation last time, but he hadn’t found anything. He told Julie that. 

“It probably was the coma that caused it,” said Julie, “We often see that with people who have been under narcosis for a long operation too: they can be very unreasonable. Your body and mind had come a long way. How long had you been unconscious?”

“A couple of weeks, I think”. 

“Well, this, in combination with all the things you had gone through before: unhealed childhood traumas and a broken heart; extreme solitude during your career as a spy; an lethal attack by a snake … and no proper treatment. It’s a wonder you’re still alive. Many in your case would have committed suicide”. 

“Yes well…” he hadn’t been very far from that option. Only his scientific work here in Oxford and the more or less homely feeling he got from living with these people had saved him… or rather… forced him to focus on other things. If he had stayed at his miserable place at Spinner’s End, he was sure he wouldn’t have been alive anymore. 

“It would be good to have her back as a friend, Severus,” said Jim who was also sitting in the room, “She was obviously very fond of you”. 

“She <i>was…</i> yes”.

“But she’s not anymore, you think?”. 

“No… not after the row we had”. 

“People don’t stop loving each other because of a row,” said Julie. 

“That depends on the things that were said,” said Severus.

“Was it that bad?”

“My memory fails me, but yes, I suppose I said quite destructive things to her”.

“Shall we have a word with her?” offered Julie, “Where does she live?”

“Here. In Oxford”. 

“In Oxford? Do we know her?”

“Of course we don’t,” said her partner, “It isn’t as if we know all the girls in Oxford, is it?”

“What’s her name?”

“Billie Matthews. Her father teaches here I believe”. 

“Professor Matthews? The Professor of Bio-Chemistry?” asked Jim. 

“Yes, I believe he teaches Chemistry”. 

“<i>Taught</i>,” corrected Jim, “He’s retired”. 

“So, shall we have a word with her?” asked Julie, “I suppose she still lives at her parents’ place?”

“We don’t know where Professor Matthews lives, Julie,” said Jim.

“Oh, I’m sure we can find that out”. 

“I do not think this is a good idea,” said Severus, “I do not want you to talk to Billie, and even less so to her parents”. 

His head was aching again. “I think I will have an early night,” he said, rubbing his painful brow. 

“Good idea,” said Julie, “Let’s see how things look in the morning”. 

 

Severus awoke with a strange feeling of comfort. He recognised that feeling. He had often had it lately, and he knew that it would disappear as soon as he was fully awake. He knew it came from a dream and that Billie had been in it. 

He had his coffee and toast in his corner of the coffee shop where the same people as always burst in to buy their chocolate rolls, coffee or lunch sandwiches on their way to work. 

Julie was bustling around to serve them and was therefore too busy to talk to him, and if she hadn’t been, he knew that she would have left him in peace anyway. She knew when there was a time for talk and one for silence, a thing he greatly appreciated in her.

 

In the next days, he managed to do quite a bit of research and writing, and the subject of Billie was not brought up with his landlords anymore. He made long hours at the library, and when it closed, he continued his work, seated at his rickety desk in his room. He spent too little time in bed to ponder long on the dreams he was having every night.

 

One day, when he was on his way to Julie’s snackbar, it was raining so hard that he had to seek shelter. 

He found a portal that was leading to one of the colleges and decided to wait there until the worst of the downpour was over. 

As he stood there, shivering in his soaking-wet shoes, he let his eyes run over the various items on the information board. 

Most of them were announcement of student activities like lectures, sports events, a party and new opening hours of the college library, emergency phone numbers etc... 

And then he caught sight of a small poster that announced a lecture by Professor Matthews at one of the conference rooms that evening. 

Severus held his breath. 

The subject the Professor would be discussing was quite interesting for his essay. That alone was a good reason for him to attend it. 

But <i>Matthews</i>…! 

Could he stand meeting the man, or did he even <i>have a right</i> to be in the same room as Billie’s father? Wasn’t that a pathetic way of attention-seeking? 

He decided not to worry too much about the rain anymore and started to walk again. He needed time to think about this. 

 

“You look miles away, Severus”, said Julie as she handed him his tea, “Anything I can help you with?”

He hesitated, but then decided that his dilemma was too stupid for words and shook his head. 

“No, I think I will go up to my room, if you don’t mind. I am working on something”. 

“You know where to find me,” she smiled. 

“Yes… I do…” he muttered absent-mindedly. 

 

Professor Matthews was a tall, slim, rather good-looking man in his late fifties, with a friendly face, blue eyes fashionably hidden behind nearly rimless glasses, and an abundance of thick, grey hair. 

The family resemblance both to his son and his daughter was apparent.  

The professor had a pleasant way of lecturing: simple, interactive and challenging towards the audience at times, the odd joke included. He had written an essay on the positive and negative side effects of the latest antidepressants. 

As he explained his theory, Severus recognised several theses he had come across in his own research and which he was now in the process of refuting. 

When the question-round started and Severus sat listeningwith growing amazement at the ignorance of some students and the little satisfying replies Professor Matthews gave, he kept quiet, even if, at times, he had to surpress an urgent need to make an addition to the Professor’s explanations.

Finally, the audience got up, one or two students walked to the front desk to approach the professor personally, and Severus sat torn between the desire to join them or to choose the safest option and just file out of the meeting room together with everyone else.

He chose the latter. But as he was shuffling his way towards the exit, something withheld him and his pace grew slower and slower with every step he took until he stopped altogether. He cast a look over his shoulder. 

The Professor was finishing his conversation with the students who had come to see him and was now stowing his laptop back in its case; his coat already dangling from his arm. 

In a few minutes he would be gone.

Severus took a breath and bumped against two young men as he abruptly turned around to enter the room again. 

 

As the students turned to leave, the blue eyes fell upon the dark man who had been waiting behind them and lit up with interest. For some reason, this was a figure one normally didn’t run into here in Oxford.

“Professor Matthews,” said Severus, “I wonder if I might have a word with you about an essay I am writing on alternative substances to treat post-traumatic depressions”. 

“Certainly,” said the Professor. 

“Before I go into details, I deem it necessary to warn you. My theories may sound a little unconventional to you, perhaps,” proceeded Severus, “My name is Severus Snape. I believe I have been teaching your daughter in the last years”. 

“I see…” said the Professor, who instantly grasped the full meaning of what it was Severus was saying. He now studied the man in front of him with a particular interest and a certain calculation in his eyes. 

“In that case, Professor Snape, I think we had better continue our discussion in private. May I invite you to a drink in my club nearby?”. 

“I would be delighted”, said Severus. 

And so the two men set off for Professor Matthews’s club, which appeared to be in a large town house off the High Street. 

Severus was glad the Professor had chosen this posh option: at least they could talk quietly there without the risk of being overheard. 

 

They had a long talk about the alternative elements and compounds Severus suggested in post-traumatic medicin. 

“The healing characteristics of the herbs you suggest were indeed unknown to me, Professor Snape,” said Professor Matthews finally, “And I definitely do not doubt them. Of course, you have discovered their beneficient characteristics in ways that are not possible, or even acceptable in our circles. Therefore, I fear that we cannot 

work with them, not unless you can prove them in a more… shall we say conventional way. I’m sure you understand what I mean”. 

“Yes, of course,” said Severus, “I have been making the same reflection. That is why I intend to continue my research until I have found a method – a non-magical method I should say – to prove my theory”. 

“If you are successful in this attempt, I am sure your work will mean a breakthrough in the treatment of post-traumatic depressions,” said the Professor, “But if you don’t mind my asking, Professor Snape, why did you approach <i>me</i> on this subject? Were you seeking my advice in your research?”

“Your expertise would of course be very welcome,” said Severus, “Yet, I do not intend to force my work upon you. I would merely ask you if you could advise me on the sources to consult and on where to find them”. 

“You mean scientific works on the subjects, and the specialised libraries? Of course I can help you with that. My former assistant can give you  a print-out of all the institutions my department has worked with and the names of the contacts there. You may always use my name as a reference”. 

“That would be most helpful, thank you”. 

For a moment there was a silence during which both men sat sipping from their wine. It didn’t have the quality of Hogwarts’ finest wines, of course, but it came quite close, Severus had to admit. Being a club member seemed to have its advantages. 

“Professor Snape, I would like to bring up the subject of my daughter”, Professor Matthews suddenly said as he put back his glass on the table. “I hope you don’t mind?”

“Not at all. How is Miss Matthews?”

“She hasn’t been well, lately”. 

The black eyes met the blue ones. This time, there was no mistaking the reserve in Professor Matthews’s gaze. 

“I am sorry to hear that”, said Severus, carefully hiding the effect the words had on his inner peace. 

“Perhaps we shouldn’t lose any time pretending, Professor. I know that you were quite close. She spent weeks at your sick bed. I don’t suppose she would be doing that for any other teacher at Hogwarts”. 

“Indeed not. There was quite some affection involved”. 

“Merely from her side you mean?”

“I would not dare to say that,” said Severus quietly, “Not mainly…”

“I see,” said the Professor again, and they were silent for a while. 

Then Severus summoned up his courage. 

“I apologise for using this meeting to that purpose, Professor. That was not at all my intention. But do you think it would be possible for me to have a word with Billie anyway?”

“She is not in Oxford”. 

“Ah”. 

The blue eyes registered the trace of disappointment in the other man's face. He had a feeling strong emotions were being surpressed here. 

“… But I suppose you could pay her a visit in France”, he therefore added.

“Is she in France?”

“Yes… she couldn’t quite stand being in the UK anymore and so she left for our summer house in the south of France. You do know that my wife is French? The house in the Ardèche is a second home to us, which is why Billie sought solace there. But that made things even worse: being isolated in a remote corner of France in winterand nobody to talk to except yourself isn’t really the best therapy for a troubled mind”. 

“She was unhappy?” 

“That is putting it extremely tentatively. Anyway, she has gone back to the Ardennes, to the man who taught her a couple of things last year. Francis something…”

“Could it be Francis Lejeune?”

“Yes, that’s him. Do you know him?”. 

“Quite well. I have studied with him myself”. 

“Hm… well in that case I don’t think it will be very difficult for you to find him back, or shall I give you his address?”

“No, I can find it…” said Severus, “Thank you. And… I thank you for the interesting discussion we had earlier. Would it be very inappropriate if I sent you a copy of my essay when I have finished it?”

“Not at all. I’d be delighted”. 

Both men got to their feet

“I will be happy to receive your feedback,” said Severus, “I am sure it will be very enlightning”. 

“I hope so. You are treating a pet subject of mine”. 

They shook hands.

“Professor Snape, my daughter has always mentally been avery strong person,” said Professor Matthews, “It grieves me tremendously to see her in low spirits. That is all I want to say on the subject. You are both adults. I can only hope you will find a way to sort things out”. 

“I understand, sir,” said Severus, “And I do hope we will. I think she is rather dear to me, even if she may find that hard to believe these days”. 

“Then I advise you to go in search for her and make that clear to her”, Professor Matthews pulled on his coat. “If she is dear to you, she had better know that as soon as possible. Goodbye, Professor. And good luck”. 

Severus thanked him for his time and with a strange mixture of relief and worry left the club.


	2. Part V Chapter 2

2

 

Severus interrupted his climb up the hill to take off his jacket and take a swig from the water bottle he had brought with him. 

It was a hot day for this time of the year, and the exercise left him quite sweaty and out-of-breath.

The path was bordered on his left side by a forest, but on his right side, a magnificent view was displayed of meadows, woods and hills that lay sleepily shimmering in the spring sun. 

Through the valley deep below, a brook cheerfully wound its way through fields and trees until, at its last bend, which Severus could just see from where he was standing, it threw itself into the somewhat larger river that, a little further upstream, passed through Francis Lejeune’s grounds.

Severus had never been much of a swimmer, but in this heat, he found the sparkling water immensely inviting and if it hadn’t been for the steep climb he would be forced to take after his dive into the water, he wouldn’t have hesitated to step away from the path and take the descent into the valley. 

But, apart from the distance, he also had an important mission to accomplish and dripping clothes, possibly combined with seaweed in his hair, or whatever it was that grew in these rivers, would not give him the look of <i>sérieux</i> he needed for the task at hand.

Not that he was not taking the upcoming confrontation seriously. As it was, he was more nervous than he could ever recall having been in his life. On the many occasions when he had felt insecure, however, his look of cold indifference, which was highlighted by his forbidding black robes and his superior position as a teacher or as Voldemort’s right hand, had always saved him. 

Today, however, he had none of this with him. The last thing he should feel the need to express was coldness or indifference to start with, so such a mask would not be very helpful. On top of that, he was wearing muggle clothes and even if they were as black as his usual attire, the thin shirt and the jeans gave him a strange feeling of exposure, as if he was going to meet her stark naked. 

And he was the one who was going to take the first step towards her, and a big one at that, in a foreign country, in the house of a man to whom <i>she</i> was obviously a lot closer than he was… 

 

He turned away from the panoramic view and continued his walk, but now his steps were a lot slower than previously. 

In the closeness of Francis’s house, the uneasiness and worry he had started to feel from the moment he had decided to come and visit her had turned into sheer nervousness and fear. 

What if she refused him, he kept on thinking, and he had to admit that she would be very right to do so. Would he be able to pick up the pieces and go on with his old miserable life again? 

He sighed, and thought it better not to go there. Just being able to see her and talk to her would be enough for the time being. 

But what if her father had been wrong and she wasn’t here at all? Or if she had left already?

He shook his head, picked up his pace again and took the last bend before the red-brick farm became visible. 

 

The house and its grounds hadn’t changed a bit. 

At the sight of the three separate buildings with their slate roofs glittering in the sun, Severus was suddenly taken back to about eleven years before, when he had come to study with Francis himself, in the summer months just before a to him completely unknown Billie Matthews was going to start at Hogwarts… the same girl he was now so anxious to meet in this remote village in the Ardennes.  

 

By the time he had reached Francis’s front door, a strange calm had settled over him… or was he just paralysed with fear and nervousness? 

His knocking was answered by a loud barking, but apart from that, everything remained silent. 

Were they out? Or just in the garden? 

He knocked a second time, sending the dog against the other side of the door in frustration, and finally, the muffled sound of a deep masculine voice was heard, probably to silence the dog because the next moment, the small shutter from the peering hole in the door was shoved aside and a pale-blue eye stared back at him. 

For a few seconds, nothing happened as the blue eye locked with one of the black ones, but then Severus heard the rattling of keys. 

“Snape is it?” muttered the old man. 

“It is”, Severus simply said and then the door was opened and a more withered and bent Francis than the one from his memory stepped aside to let him in. 

Now that his master had shown up, the dog at his feet merely sniffed at Severus’s jeans and walked away. 

“Goodafternoon Francis”. 

His host did not return his greeting. 

Instead, he gave Severus the up and down and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“It’s not me you’re coming to see I hope?” he asked rather provocatively.

“Is Billie here?”

“Yes, she’s here, although I’m not sure that’s such a good idea now,” Francis growled.

It wasn’t too difficult to guess why the old man was not pleased to see him, but Severus knew better than to be intimidated by this. 

“Who knows…” he replied in his usual ironic tone, that had an edge of cheerfulness in it now that he knew Billie was here and he was going to see her very soon, “She may disagree”. 

“I hope she doesn’t. What were you thinking, leaving her in such a state!”

“What do you mean?” Severus asked, suddenly alarmed, “Is she very ill?”

“No flu, if that’s what you mean. A broken heart, rather. Why have you come? Not up to one of your tricks I hope?”

“When it comes to broken hearts I can’t recall ever having played any tricks, but thank you for warning me anyway,” replied Severus coldly. 

“You’ve always been an arrogant, self-centered person, Snape,” said Francis, “And it saddens me that you haven’t learnt anything in all those years. You bite the hand that’s feeding you or, in this case, mentally destroy the person who loved you enough to pull you back from death”. 

“I recall having come back of my own will!”

“As if!” spat Francis, “Your own will, my backside! It was your will the poor girl has been dragging back for Merlin knows what reason and look where that got her!”

For a moment, there was an icy silence during which both men stood competing each other in a contest for the most lethal stare. Even the dog Lazarus, who Francis had locked up in the front room to prevent him from attacking his visitor, had stopped his whining.

“Very well, then,” Severus finally said, “If you think the best thing for Billie would beto not see me, I will be on my way again. I do not wish to hurt her even more”. 

“You will stay exactly where you are!,” snorted Francis, “You will at least give <i>her </i>the chance to make up her mind whether she wants to see you or not. It’s high time you stopped taking matters in your own hands and messing them up altogether!”. 

This left Severus speechless, especially because he realised the old man had a point. He had indeed made a mess of it all, his life, his rebirth, his… well... everything.

Then Francis sighed. “She’s in the meadow, riding our Mary”. 

“Are you…?”

“Get off with you! You won’t wait here until she turns up, will you? The least you can do is set the first step. Literally!”. 

And he lead the way to the kitchen where the backdoor was replaced by a set of multi-coloured strings, in an unsuccessful attempt to keep the flies outside. “She’s over there, with the horses”.

“How is she?” asked Severus, still worried, “Is she in a very bad way?”

“Well, let’s just say that I hope she won’t instantly drop dead at seeing you…”, said Francis, “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?”

“I… did not have the chance” and that was a blatant lie. He had seriously considered contacting Francis, or even Billie herself, but the truth was that he had been terrified she would run away if she knew he was coming. 

Being a skilled Legilimiens, Francis had no trouble reading his thoughts, and not performing Occlumency at a moment like this, which had always been as natural to Severus as breathing, was saying something about the younger man’s mental state. 

“Off you go then,” Francis nodded, and with a heart that was suddenly racing like mad, Severus pushed the multicoloured strings aside and stepped into the warm afternoon sun. 

 

In the far distance, in one of the meadows bordering the forest, a large, chestnut mare was galloping in circles, carrying a girl on its back of whom only the long blonde hair was recognisable from this distance. 

Severus took a deep breath and started to walk towards them. 

Billie’s attention was completely focused on the horse that, even to a layman like Severus, looked nervous. It moved rather jumpy and Billy seemed to need all her strength to keep it in check. 

When he was close enough to lean on the fence she was just riding away from him so that he could watch her unnoticed for a little while. 

 

Even if Mary, the horse she was riding, was literally a handful, Billie welcomed the work it was giving her. She found riding the horse soothing in her melancholy state. She wondered how much longer she would have to stay here before that horrible weight in the pit of her stomach would lift and something of her usual joie-de-vivre returned. 

In coming here, she had found a shoulder to cry on, or rather, a person she could confide in, because apart from her own and Emily’s parents and Molly, only Francis knew that Severus had survived the snake’s attack. Well, the latter she had told him herself, knowing very well that, even if the old man were tortured to death, he would never spill the beans on anything he had been told in confidence.

She made the horse follow the circle back into the other direction, vaguely aware of a shadow that was appearing in her visual range, and looked up when Mary anxiously reared. 

If Billie hadn’t been an experienced rider, she would have fallen off her back from the shock she received.

 

She had visibly lost weight, but despite the somewhat sharper features and the fact that her dark-blue eyes seemed to dominate her thinner face now, she was still as beautiful as always, with the loose curls springing from the long pony tail she had made, the tiny little freckles the sun had conjured on her tanned nose and the elegant riding outfit she was wearing. 

Despite his inner turmoil, Severus couldn’t help noticing how its bodice perfectly followed the curve of her stomach and breasts, and how the trousers tightened around her elegant legs when she dismounted.

Severus feverishly sought for the opening he had been practising during all his walk but it didn’t come, so he could only stand in silence, waiting for Billie to say something, or do something… even clawing his eyes out would give him an opening for a conversation, but instead she was patting the mare’s neck and then helped it out of its saddle and briddle.

Finally, when it became clear that she wasn’t going to help him in any way, he decided to just blurt out the first thing he could think of. 

“Billie, could we have a word?”. 

A sillier opening was probably difficult to think of, but at least his words seemed to have an effect. A frown had appeared between her eyebrows when she looked back at him. 

“Has Francis sent for you?”

Severus shook his head, but she had already turned away from him again and so he said “No”, and repeated it when the first “no” got stuck in his dry throat. 

“I was the one who wanted to see you,” he said softly, “I have been an idiot” 

She patted the horse’s side, to indicate that it was free to walk away and shot him a glance as she lay the saddle and bridle over the fence, but she didn’t say anything. 

“Saying this is not meant as an excuse, Billie. Nothing could be an excuse. My conduct was unforgivable”. 

“It took a long time for you to realise that,” she said coolly.

“It did…,” he admitted, “and again, I do not wish to use this as a justification for what I did … but I was out of my mind”. He tried to hold her gaze but she kept looking away, “I must admit that I am still not sure if I have completely come back to my senses”. Since she didn’t respond, he continued. “I was even too ignorant to understand that I was not behaving normally”. 

“Then what gave you the insight?”

“Julie,” he said and when he saw her eyebrows go up he immediately added, “My landlady. She’s a psychologist. Apparently, I was too preoccupied with being permanently disagreeable to realise my conduct was abnormal”. 

“You were quite straight-forward, though, when you told me how enthusiastic you had joined Voldemort, and how there was noone in this world worth caring about, or living for, least of all <i>me</i>. Tell me, Severus,” she said, crossing her arms and looking him straight into the eyes, “Why exactly did you come back here? Do you really regret what you have done or were you just lonely?”

He was so stunned when he heard her throw back his own, horrible words at him that he hardly heard the question she put at him. 

Merlin… he didn’t even have a right to be here if this was really what he had said! She had to hate him like nothing else in the world. 

“I wasn’t really lonely,” he finally said, when he realised she had asked him something. “I have had the good fortune to find a room with two wonderful people and to be working on a most interesting scientific subject. But I cannot deny that I was lonely anyway, for I missed you terribly, and increasingly so. But I fully understand it if you do not wish to see me. If this is indeed what I said, I cannot even ask you to forgive me”. 

“How was Mary?” They both started heavily at the sudden sound of Francis’ voice. The old man had walked up to them, mainly with the intention of checking if Billie was all right and not being hurt by Snape again. 

“Erm… she’s still very nervous. She reared when she saw Severus”. 

“Yeah… well, it’s not as if you can blame her,” muttered Francis.

Severus shot him a dirty look to give himself a pose, but silently agreed. 

“You all right, girl?”

Billie nodded. 

“I think I will leave you now,” said Severus hesitatingly. He had a feeling he was not at all welcome, and he didn’t blame either of them.

“Where are you staying?” asked Francis.

“I have booked a room at the Inn outside of the village, <i>Au Lion d’Or</i>, on the other side of the hill. I will stay there for a little while”. 

Francis nodded but Billie didn’t respond. So Severus turned away from them and left, his spirits even lower than they had been before.  

 

“He sounded and looked sincere”, muttered Billie, “Could it be that he was really not aware of what he was saying at the hospital? Dr Afzelius had warned me against the changeable moods many coma patients suffer after they have awoken ”

Francis shrugged. “Even if his outburst was the result of the coma, it doesn’t justify the things he said”. 

“They were probably out of proportion”. 

“But with a core of truth in them. Why else should he have said them?”

“Hm…”

“What was it again he said? Would you mind repeating it once more?”

“That he had never been the nice person I wanted him to be; that he still didn’t know if it had been a good idea to come back to this world in which noone lived  who he cared about; that I should stop getting involved with him or something, and get on with my life… It’s all so different from the way I have come to know him in the last years”. 

“But very much in line with the way <i>we</i> have always seen him”. 

Billie let a deep sigh. “I think I’ll have another word with him. The least I can do is listen to his part of the story”. 

“Aren’t you afraid he will try to emotionally blackmail you?”

“Why should he do that?”

“Because… like you said yourself, he’s lonely. There can’t have been many people he has been in touch with lately. To the wizarding world, he is as dead as a doorknob, and he has never hidden his contempt for muggles, so I don’t expect him to rub shoulders with many of them either”. 

“He spoke quite warmly of the two people who took him in. I suppose they were muggles”. 

“Perhaps he was just desperate”. 

“Perhaps…”

She absent-mindedly stirred the tea that had run cold. 

“I’ll sleep on it,” she finally said. “I don’t understand it anymore and I need time to think”. 

“Good idea. As long as you don’t rush to him first thing in the morning: let him stew in his own juice for a while. It won’t hurt him”. 

“You love him to bits, don’t you?” she smiled, “Ah well… I suppose you’re right. I’ll take my time”. 

“Good”. 

 

It was quite a walk to the Inn Severus had mentioned, but a beautiful one. 

Billie took all her time to climb the hill out of Francis’s valley and in the meantime, and despite her nervousness, to enjoy the warmth of the sunrays on her face and the panoramic views she met on her way. When she arrived at the village, she stopped at the grocery’s to buy a small bottle of water. Her mouth was dry and it wasn’t the result of the exercise…

She followed the brook until she reached the stone bridge that took her to the other side of the village, from where the road slowly started to climb up again. When she reached the top and another breathtaking view met her eyes, she caught sight of a large roof that stood glistening in the sun about two hundred yards ahead.

It looked like she had nearly reached her destination and her heart immediately switched over to a higher speed. 

 

“Voilà, Monsieur,” the landlord said as he put the tiny little coffee cup on Severus’s table. “Are you not going to enjoy ze wonderful weazer outside?”

“No, I’m not going out,” said Severus curtly. He didn’t want to run the risk of missing Billie if she came, even if his hopes were not high. He hadn’t heard anything from her all evening and all morning, and the afternoon was already well advanced too.

“Qu’il est bizare, celui-là,” the landlord said to his wife when he came back to the counter. 

Severus inwardly shrugged. 

And then he saw a movement at the door. The person in the doorway was just a silhouette, due to the sunlight that was blinding everyone inside but, with a shock, Severus recognised the outline. 

She had come!

 

‘I’m not sure why I am here, Severus,” she said when she sat down opposite him.  “…or if I should be here at all. I suppose I would like to make sure I fully understand you, because I can’t say I do now”. 

“You must think me highly schizophrenic. Is that what you mean?”

“Either schizophrenic or something even worse”. 

“Where shall I start?” asked Severus. He could sense that she was nervous but she hid it well. Her eyes were nearly expressionless – she was getting extremely good at Occlumency – and she looked surprisingly calm, rational, level-headed… everything he was completely missing himself at that very moment.

“Why don’t you start with your reason for being here?”

“What can I say…” he said, “If I have indeed insulted and hurt you the way you told me yesterday then I do not think I should be here in the first place”. 

“That is not what I meant,” said Billie, “I meant: why have you come back from death when you didn’t even want to?”

“Ah… I see,” He thought for a moment. “I cannot recall having had a choice but still, something in my mind must have made me come out of the coma and try again. I do not know for sure what it was exactly, but what I do know now, and have gradually come to realise after I had left the hospital, is that being here does not make any sense without you”. 

“Why?”

There was a simple answer to that question but he didn’t want to make it sound like a cheap excuse, as it would definitely do in the present circumstances what with all the mess he had caused.

“Because you are and have always been much dearer to me than I wanted to admit. I was blinded by my obsession with Lily. First of all, Billie, I do not wish to hurt you by telling you a few things which you may not find agreeable to listen to, nor, once again, use what I am going to say next as an excuse. And yet, since you expressed a wish to understand me a little better, I have to explain them”. 

Billie held her breath. She was mentally preparing herself for a possible series of emotional blows.

“Never mind. Go on,” she said.

“You do know that my very reason for existing and for doing the so-called heroic deeds I have been doing in the last years has always been because of Lily. Ever since we were small children I have loved her and when we grew apart – mainly thanks to my own wrong-doing - I started to idolise her, perhaps in an unrealistic way, even if she was a most wonderful person. As I said, my obsession with her blinded me and also became a habit, something as natural as breathing. When I came out of the coma, my mind may not have been functioning very well, and I assume that mainly my primary functions worked, I cannot tell. But what I do know is that the things I have said then did definitely not express how I really felt, or how I should have felt if I had been in the right frame of mind”.

He took a sip from his completely empty cup. 

“I cannot remember what I said to you, but I suppose I did not think any further than surviving and Lily at that time, at the same time completely ignoring, or forgetting about, the very reason why I was fighting for my life in the first place”.

He paused. 

“I can equally imagine, however, that finding myself entirely dependent on other people, both the medical staff and yourself, seriously irritated me. I have always relied – or been forced to rely - on myself, from a very early age. Realising that I was at your mercy was difficult for me, and this, combined with an unbalanced state of mind, was enough for me to be blinded with fury. Again, I do not wish to use the consequences of my injuries and coma as an excuse, but it is a fact that, at that time and for quite some time after that still – I did have regular outbursts of uncontrolled aggression, many of them without a reason or at least heavily out of proportion. 

Be that as it may, it is unforgivable that I should have directed it towards to the very last person who deserved such an attack. I cannot apologise enough for that ”. 

Billie nodded. If she was very honest with herself, she had understood a lot of what he was saying herself. She had never known him to be so aggressive as he had been that day, of course, but she did know that Severus was not the kind of person who let anyone fuss over him, and that her interference would sooner or later have irritated him. 

 “You may think that this all sounds clever, probably meant to work on your sentiment in one way or the other, so as for me to personally gain from it.” continued Severus, “There is little I can do to convince you of the opposite. In fact, I have to admit that there <i>is</i> a strong personal interest involved. I have come here hoping that I could be your friend”.

He was looking her straight into the eyes now and he saw a tiny flicker pass in them when he dropped the word <i>friend</i>. 

And understood. 

“I was not hoping to be more to you than a friend… to love you for example…”. Her eyes narrowed slightly, “… because I think I do that already”, he added after a little while.

The mask of indifference she had been wearing all through his speech fell off as soon as he had spoken the words. First she grew deadly pale and her mouth fell open in astonishment; then the colour came back to her cheeks and her eyes started to sparkle as some of the old warmth came back into them. It was wonderful to see the old Billie coming back.

“Your occlumency skills are impressive but not fool-proof I have to say,” he added dryly, and smiled when she blushed. 

He took both her hands in his, but then he caught sight of a movement at the counter and realised that the landlord and his wife were following the conversation with great interest. 

“Would you like to go for a walk?” he asked her, “I do not particularly like the audience here”. 

“Oh,” said Billie, sounding as if she currently found herself in another world, “Yes… yes, of course”. 

They took a small path that lead to the river, which they could follow straight to Francis’s house. 

They walked in silence for a while. Severus was still thinking of ways to formulate himself, while Billie tried to digest the heavy emotions his confession had caused.

When they came at a small stone bridge, Severus stopped and leaned his back against the rail, his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans.

“I am aware that I have severely damaged your trust in me”, he said, “The most wonderful and beautiful girl has given me the greatest affection a man could dream of, and blind and arrogant as I was, I just thrust it aside, not realising what a unique gift it was. If, in time, I managed to win back only a fraction of it, I would be unmeasurably more happy than I deserve”. 

“Oh Severus,” Billie couldn’t stop herself anymore. She took a step closer to him and fondly traced the frown between his eyebrows with her fingertips. Her eyes were glistening with the sunlight and the tears that had come into them, “I have told you so many times already but you never seem to listen, so I will do it once again and now I hope you will finally believe me and remember it: I love you. I have loved you so very much for such a long time. I was already deeply in love with you when we were working on my NEWTS together and I didn’t even understand it then. But Fred knew. That’s why we broke up even if neither of us ever spoke the words. And even if I have been devestated and heart-broken these last months, I have never truly believed that you were yourself when you attacked me at St Mungo’s. It didn’t fit at all with the man I have come to know in all these years. I do hope he is back now”. 

“I cannot tell, but I promise that I will do my best to find him back and keep him here,” said Severus. He took his hands out of his pockets and pulled her close to him. His lips briefly brushed hers. “Although only Merlin knows what on earth you see in him”.

“Listing that would take us too long,” she grinned, and then she pulled his head towards her for a proper kiss. Too much had been lingering between them for too long. There was no stopping the passion anymore.

 

The next day, as the sun was sinking low and bathing the centre of Charleville in a warm, golden light, Severus sat listening to Billie’s account of the weeks after the Battle and found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on what she was saying. She was so stunningly beautiful as she was sitting there, with the soft light of the setting autumn sun on her face; the even-darker-than-usual blue eyes that were sparkling with happiness and love; the hair loosely and playfully tied together so that it left the delicate curve of her neck and shoulders free; and the delightful combination of dark red and white she was wearing and which suited her perfectly. After a while she stopped and grabbed his hand over the table.

“What is it?” she laughed charmingly, “You look miles away”.

He pushed his plate with the remainder of the risotto he had been playing with aside so that he could lean a little closer to her and cup her cheek.

“When are you coming back?”

“On Thursday,” she said and turned her head a little to peck the palm of his hand, “My mum’s birthday is on Tuesday and I promised to help her with the cleaning up on Wednesday”. 

“And when is your appointment with Madame Mallemour?”

“At one”.

She wasn’t quite sure why he was asking this, or if he expected her to say or do anything in particular. It was all so delicate still, so fresh. All right, they had declared their love on the day before and consumed it whilst being at it, and when Billie left for Francis, Severus had asked her if he could see her today and they had agreed to spend the evening and the night in Charleville, so that they could take the early train on the next morning – Billie to her parents’ house in Nîmes and Snape to the “Quartier Magique” near the Sorbonne in Paris, but did that mean that they were in a real relationship? That they were supposed to make appointments and spend most of the time and all the nights together and make plans for the future? 

At this early stage, it was difficult to picture Snape in such a role. But the fact was there that Billie had to make plans for her future career now and that she hoped Severus could be a part of them in one way or another.

“Will you come and pick me up at the Gare du Nord?” she asked. 

“Would you like me to?”

“It would be lovely,” she smiled most becomingly, “I think I’ll miss you in the next days”. 

He took his hand away and took a sip from his wine but he didn’t reply.

“Severus…?” She met his questioning glance, “Have you thought about what you’re going to do, you know… in the next weeks or months… or after you have finished your research?”

“Not really…” he said, a little cautiously, “Why?”

“I mean… would you like to go back to the UK, or spend some time abroad?”.

He looked down at the glass in his hands and was silent for a while. 

“I have been asking myself the same question, Billie, and the truth is that I have no idea”. 

He looked up again. “Are my plans of any importance to you?”

There you had it… 

Billie hesitated for a moment. There was always a chance he took her reply wrongly and got angry and then a lovely evening and promising night would instantly be ruined. The row they had had at St Mungo’s was still very much on her mind and made her painfully aware of how fragile their relationship still was.

“<i>You </i>are important to me,” she finally said, “I can only hope you make the choice that is best for you”. 

“But what would you like me to do?”

“Are you asking for my opinion, or merely trying to find out what I would personally want?”

“Both”. 

“Hm…” There was a slight reserve but also unconcealed affection in the eyes that rested on him, which he nearly found irresistible, “May I be honest?”

“Of course”.

“Sure? You promise you won’t shout when I give you my personal opinion?”

“I never shout, Miss Matthews”

“All right then. As I’m sitting here, I mean in the wobbly state I’m in…” they both chuckled, “with the view I’m enjoying and after the delicious food and drinks I’ve had…”

“Come to the point, Miss Matthews…”

“Well, yes, I was just about to. And if we’re purely considering what <i>I </i>would like, I’d say that I’d like to have you as close to me as possible, physically I mean. But…” and she looked a little more serious now, “I don’t want to tie you to me with strings that would suffocate you in no time and make you run away from me in a panic and hide”.

“Hm… and on a more professional note?”

She took another sip from her wine as she thought of the best way to formulate her thoughts  and then decided to simply be honest with him. 

“When it comes to your profession, there’s absolutely nothing I would want to advise you to do, because that’s not up to me to do so and I’m sure you’re not really waiting for that either. I only know that, at this very moment, you’re very hot in Britain. First of all, you’re still best-selling headline news about things which I think are too personal to be discussed in public in the first place. Secondly, you’re controversial and probably in a dangerous position in that the people, who used to live under the impression that you were one of them and have now learnt that they were misled, might seek revenge if they knew you were still alive. So they can’t wait to lay their hands on you. And the Aurors, on the other hand, would probably love to do the same, in the hope of being able to collect enough evidence to lock the former group of people up in Azkaban. So in short, Britain would welcome you back with open arms but I’m not sure that they’re the arms you’d like to be closed in”. 

Severus couldn’t help chuckling again. 

“So you would suggest I stay In France,“ he said, “and if Olive offers you a job, you would stay here too. And then you would have me close to you”.

“Erm… yes, but I’m not at all sure she will do that, or that she will make an offer I’d like her to make”. 

“And what kind of offer would you like to be made?”

He smiled when she cast him a mildly-exasperated look.

“You really want me to make a full confession, don’t you?” she teased him, “And am I right in assuming that you already know what I’m going to say anyway?”

“Well… suffice it to say that Occlumency is not what you excel in at the moment”.

If he spoke the truth there was little to be afraid of, for he was showing no anger or irritation whatsoever, quite on the contrary. His fingers sought hers and he started to play with them.

“All right, then,” said Billie, “I hope I’m not saying too much now, but apart from the fact that I’m a tiny bit in love with you and therefore like to spend some of my time with you, I am still hoping to become a Potions Master too, and since you are the very best Potions Master I know I would hope to be mentored by you – if Beaubâtons or any other insititution is willing to employ me as an assistant and pay for my research <i>and </i>for your mentorship, that is”.

“Is that what you are going to discuss with Olive Mallemour?”

“Do you mean, am I going to ask for a job as an assistant and hope they will pay for my doctoral thesis and for your mentorship? No. Because I’m only telling you what I would <i>wish</i> for, if a faerie appeared at our table here and told me I could make a wish. But maybe you don’t have the slightest desire to work with me or mentor me at all. So I’m not going to aim for such a position unless I know you would like that too”.

“By which you are now inquiring after my intentions, which is how this conversation started at the very beginning”. 

“Oh, Severus, you’re priceless!” she laughed, “How can one ever have a proper conversation with a person who’s better at reading one’s mind than oneself?”.

She pulled her hand from underneath his and fondly let her fingers run over his face, suddenly looking serious again. 

“As I said, I don’t want to clasp you into my claws and keep you there against your will, Severus. Even if I would love to learn from you and work with you and… do an awful lot of things with you, I won’t risk losing your love if you don’t share that desire”.

She could tell from the way he looked at her that he was somehow touched by the things she had said. But she didn’t expect a reply from him. It was probably far too early to take any decisions – least of all such important ones. 

She leaned over to plant a kiss on his lips and released him.

They sat in silence for a while, each wrapped in their own thoughts and with the light fading, now that the sun had disappeared. The waiters from all the restaurants and cafés around the square were putting candles on the tables, which gave the place an enchanting look. But with the sun away, the temperatures dropped rapidly too.

“Shall we retire?” asked Severus when he saw Billie shiver. 

“Go back to the hotel, you mean?”

The magical thing about an early relationship is that such simple suggestions make one’s heart beat faster; one’s breath come quicker and one’s limbs go weak like jelly. Billie wondered if Severus experienced the same funny sensations as she did. The look he gave her, and he way he briefly touched her face as they got up to leave did little to contradict this.


	3. Part V Chapter 3

Three days later

 

By the time the train finally slowed down and rolled into the Gare du Nord, Billie felt so nervous that she couldn’t remain seated anymore. 

She got up, heaved her trolley out of the rack and, a little unstable with all the track changes the train was making, made her way to the doors.

As the first inches of the platform came into view, she craned her neck, hoping to catch a glimpse of a tall man in black, but the train was still moving too fast and the few people who had come this far on the platform passed in a blur. 

She hadn’t heard from Severus since she had left him at the station in Charleville on Tuesday morning, mainly because she hadn’t brought an owl with her to Nîmes, which had prevented her from sending a letter. And he hadn’t contacted her either. 

So she had no idea whether he would be waiting for her or not. He was not the most predictable person in the world anyway, especially now, with the way things stood between them

And yet, after the magical evening on the little terrace in Charleville, they had spent a terribly wonderful first night together. It had been so overwhelming- so very different from the way she had made love with Fred, or Oliver before that. The memory of it still made her go completely funny. 

She cast a discrete glance at the grey lady at the compartment door, who looked as if she had just consumed an unripe lemon, or at least had guessed what erotic images were currently passing through the blonde head opposite her, for her whole body language expressed disapproval.

Billie smiled, but the very next moment her heart stopped as she realised that the train had come to a standstill. 

 

She was barely alive by the time the door opened with a hiss, and she placed a shaking foot on the first step.

He was there- at just one compartment from hers- seemingly casually reading the free muggle newspaper that was distributed in all train stations.

Billie couldn’t suppress a beaming smile as she approached herself from him and when she was so close that he became aware of her presence, she dropped her trolley and jumped into his arms – the slightly expectant reserve she had previously planned to display long forgotten.

She was relieved to see a thin smile playing on his lips as he looked down into her sparkling eyes and kept her circled into his arms for a while.

“Hello…” she smiled a little awkwardly.

“Hello… “ he said, clearly amused as he took his arms away and bent to pick up her trolley. 

She pushed her arm through his as they started to walk the length of the platform towards the shelter and the shops at the end. 

“How was your visit?” asked Severus. 

“Brilliant. Uncle Richard and Peter send you their regards… and dad too. He was wondering how your research is coming along”. 

“Not too bad, I have to admit,” said Snape, “The university library has a very interesting and highly secretive section”. 

“You mean a magical one”. 

He nodded. “And an impressive one too. Already I have found references I had never heard of before and which will give me completely new insights. I will probably need several more months to finish my essay”.

“And is that good or bad news?”. 

He cast her a sideways look. “From a scientific point of view that is good news”. 

But the work wasn’t subsidised and Billie had no idea how financially strong he was. They weren’t even remotely on those terms yet. 

“What time did you say your appointment was?”

“At one,” she replied, “… which is in a little more than two hours but I have to change first. I didn’t dare to wear any wizard clothes on the train”. 

“In a city like Paris you will not catch many curious stares”.

“Haven’t <i>you</i> caught any?” she asked, “You’re wearing robes”.

“Not at all. I hardly look any different from the average man in the street”. 

She laughed. 

“So where were you thinking of changing?”

“I dunno…  Some public toilet I suppose”. 

“Wouldn’t you like to drop off your luggage first? My hotel is quite a long walk from here, but it is on your way to Beauxbâtons”.

“Hm… yes, I suppose I could do that. And change there at the same time”. 

“Where are you going to stay?”

She cast him a sideways look. 

“I haven’t booked anything yet,” she said truthfully, “mainly because I have no idea how long I will be staying”.

And also because she had secretely hoped they would share one room again, but he didn’t show the inclination to make that suggestion.

Billie discreetly steered the subject of their conversation away from their sleeping arrangements and started to talk about the past days and about her brother, who was planning to move back to Rome and his beloved Sandrine now that the PM was not running the risk of being attacked by Voldemort and his followers anymore. She also updated Severus on the latest changes at the PM’s office – where Mr Willis, whose body Severus had shortly possessed, had retired and been replaced by a much more reliable Head of Security – and Severus told her all about his findings and the experiments he was planning to do, until they finally came at a quiet street with rather boring houses on both sides, one of which appeared to be Severus’s hotel.

 

As soon as they had passed through the very slow revolving door, Billie couldn’t suppress a smile. 

The hotel reminded her of the ones she used to stay in with her parents and Peter when they were on their way to the Ardèche. 

It had the same brightly-coloured flowery paper on the wall; a pink porcelain chandelier on the ceiling and matching candelabras on the wall that led to the stairs; an oak reception desk, the varnish of which had nearly completely faded over the years; and overall a penetrating smell of cooked garlic soup.

The reception was deserted, so Severus led the way up two flights of narrow stairs on which a threadbare, nineteen seventies-carpet was nailed that more or less silenced their footsteps.

They came at a tiny landing with two doors that, if they were to be opened at the same time, would definitely bang against each other. 

Severus took out a keyring from which a single key and a heavy metal plate with the room number were dangling; opened the door and entered.

“Forgive me,” he said and when he caught her puzzled look he explained, “There was not enough room to let you pass first”. 

“Oh, I see!” she laughed, “Never mind. I grew up with Peter. I’m not that easily shocked when etiquette is failing”.

The room was so tiny it could barely receive more than one person. More than half of it went lost in the roof that took the bigger part of two walls. In the only usuable corner stood an extremely narrow single bed and under the window stood a small desk on which a few quills and rolls of parchment lay.

“Aren’t you afraid someone might see this?” she asked, “The average muggle chamber maid is not used to finding quills and rolls of parchment in a room”. 

“Ah, but this is not a muggle hotel. We have just entered the northern wizarding area of Paris”. 

“Really?” she asked in surprise, “I had no idea we had passed a gate or anything”. 

“No, you were concentrating too hard on what I was saying about my research,” He playfully ticked her nose. “You had better get dressed, Billie. We still have a long way to go”. 

“Can’t we apparate? We’re in a magical area anyway”. 

“No I do not think that would be appropriate. Candidates coming for an job interview should not announce themselves with an ear-splitting crack, I think”.

“Will you join me?” asked Billie as she opened he trolley to take out her clothes and shoes.

“Not inside, of course, but I will walk with you as far as the school. The bathroom is through that door. You cannot miss it”. 

She laughed and squeezed herself through the narrow space between his bed and the half open bathroom door. They were both lucky not to be on the obese side.

 

About ten minutes later, Billie shuffled back into the room, looking completely transformed. She had exchanged her jeans, lace top, flannel shirt and boots for an elegant pinstriped witch’s suit, consisting of a simply-cut, knee-length dress with a matching short cloak and low-heeled shoes, and her hair, which she had worn completely loose upon her arrival, was now tied together in a carefully twisted bun in the nape of her neck.

“Isn’t that a little too strict?” asked Billie, casting an uncomfortable look down at her neat but very classical outfit.

Severus, who was sitting at the small desk, grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto his knees in reply. 

“No,” he said, “You look exactly the way a sophisticated Parisian, style-conscious witch should look like”. 

She thanked him with a smile.

“Nervous?” 

She nodded. “A little. A lot depends on it, doesn’t it?”

“Why?”

“Because it’s the only job opportunity I have at the moment. And I’m not overoptimistic, given the lack of experience and training I have”. 

“You are far above the level of the average Hogwarts graduate when it comes to Potions”. 

“Yes, but not an expert. What if someone is sitting in the sixth year who is better than I am and asks me to advise them on their essay?”

“That is not very likely but not impossible either,” admitted Snape, folding his fingers around her, “However, I have been thinking about our latest discussion… that evening in Charleville. When you mentioned your ambition”. 

“To become a Potions Master?”

“Yes” He wondered if he would ever tire of those eyes, “And I think you should suggest this option to Madame Mallemour. After all, it is in her own interest to have you fully qualified for the job sooner or later and you have the potential to become a very good one”. 

He calmly met her expectant gaze.

“And I could be your mentor”, he added.

A dazzling smile instantly broke out on her face. “Serious? Oh, Severus!” and she threw both her arms around his neck and hugged him so tightly he seriously started to fear she would suffociate him.

“Careful, Billie… You will… erm… ruin your hairdo”.

So she took her arms away; cupped his face in her hands and kissed him with a passion that could easily match the one from their night in Charleville.

It was Severus who gently pushed her away after a while, before things ran completely out of hand. “Stop, Billie…” he muttered, “We seriously have to hurry now. Your interview is in twenty minutes”

“Oh dear,” she gasped and quickly jumped off from his knees, “How far is it?”

“Only about ten minutes. Are you ready?”

“More than ever,” she beamed, “Unless she still doesn’t want me of course”. 

“Well in that case I will follow you to whichever school that <i>does </i>realise what they are missing”.

 

 

About an hour and a half later, when a shadow fell over the book he sat reading on the terrace of the little café opposite Beauxbâton’s main entrance, Severus looked up to find Billie beaming down on him with a smile she had never displayed before… and that was saying something. 

She looked absolutely delirious.

“What is the worst part?” he grinned as she sat down opposite him.

“The worst part?” she laughed, “Erm… let me see… that I don’t see the waitress when I’m so desperate for a drink? Oh, Severus, it was brilliant! She has agreed with everything!”

“And what exactly is <i>everything</i>?” asked Severus as he waved the waitress over to their table and ordered two glasses of chilled wine.

“Everything! Absolutely everything! To employ me as a teacher, for example, mentored by <i>you</i>, who would be employed part-time, if you agree to combine this mentorship with some scientific research she would like you to do, that is”. 

The black eyes widened a little in surprise. “Did she propose that? On what condition?”

“On the condition that I finish a doctoral thesis within five years. And that at least I, and preferably you too, become a resident teacher”.“I am not going to teach anymore,” Severus warned her. 

“No, no… the teacher bit was only meant for me. But the resident bit is valid for both of us”. 

“Has she offered separate rooms?”

“Separate rooms?” asked Billie, a little taken aback “She called them apartments, rather. But erm… yes, I suppose so. I didn’t tell her that we were a little more than teacher and former student in any case”.

She gave him a calculated look, but she didn’t ask him why he thought it was important to have separate rooms.

Not that she needed to, of course… not with Snape reading her mind as if it were an open letter.

“Billie… ,” he said softly, and turned a little more towards her so that he was sitting right in front of her to better get his point across, “I can see that you are worried and I must ask you not to feel that way“ He grabbed one of her hands and planted a kiss on it, “Much as I value your presence… and believe me… I value it very highly…; and notwithstanding the fact that I find you the most desirable creature I have ever met in my life, I think we should both maintain a certain privacy in our relationship”. He kept her fingers close to his lips as he continued, “I myself am not used to permanently finding myself in someone else’s company. Therefore, to work together with you <i>and </i>to equally spend all evenings and most of our spare time together too makes me feel uncomfortable at this stage…”

Billie nodded, “I know,” she said.

“Yes… you hinted at such a thing last Monday evening”. 

She lay her hands around his face again and lovingly started to move her thumbs over his shallow cheeks.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about this, my love,” she said softly, “But I understand and support the point you have made about a need of privacy. When we go back to Madame Mallemour, to sign the contract – by the way, are you free to join me for that tomorrow? Yes? – Brilliant. - so when we go back, we’ll double check if she has indeed provided separate appartments, hopefully with a wide bed not unlike the one you had at Hogwarts. Unless you wanted to completely go for an ascetic relationship?”. 

“Of course not, you silly girl” laughed Severus, “As it is, I cannot wait to take you somewhere private and help you out of your demure costume”. 

“I thought you liked it?” 

“I do. Because demure as it may be, you still manage to make a man wish he could pull it off the moment he sets eyes on you”. 

“I see. Well I suggest we go in search of a room with a  suitable bed for me first,” said Billie, visibly pleased with his compliments but making a weak effort to hide that in mild mockery – a technique she had probably taken over from Severus himself, “because we won’t be able to move a lot in yours, unless we’re eager to cause serious injuries to each other”. She cast him a curious look. “Did you deliberately book the smallest room in Paris – to prevent me from spending the night with you?”

“I have to admit that indeed, that was the intention,” he said a little sheepishly, “and I knew that it had been a major mistake when I saw you walk out of that train this morning”.

Billie snorted with laughter.


	4. Epilogue

Eight years later

 

3

 

It was the first day of spring – real spring, with a cloudless blue sky, a missing wind, and sunrays that, for the very first time after a long and cold winter, radiated quite some warmth. 

Ron sat down on the terrace that Florian had hurriedly knocked together to give the Londoners the opportunity to enjoy this beautiful day to the full. 

He ordered a double-whipped vanilla ice cream with hot cherries and cream – Hermione’s favourite – and closed his eyes to the sun as he sat waiting for it. 

His ears caught the sound of hurrying footsteps, and his eyelashes parted just in time to catch sight of a slender young woman with long blonde hair who was caught into the arms of a tall man, dressed completely in black, who was wearing a broad-rimmed hat that completely covered his features. 

“God, I’ve missed you,” he heard the woman say as he started to dig into the ice-cream that Florian had just set in front of him. 

Judging from the way they embraced each other, there was little to doubt this statement, he thought. 

“And I’m dying for a glass of wine,” she continued, her back still turned towards Ron,  “Can we have a drink here?”

“Turned bibulous in my absence, my love?” 

“It’s hard not to, in France,” the woman laughed, “As you very well know… And I really <i>did </i> miss you, but not enough to seek comfort in drinking”.

They sat down at a tiny round table straight in Ron’s view, but neither was aware of the other man’s presence. They sat facing each other at a very short distance, which reminded Ron of his earlier days with Hermione. 

He couldn’t help following the conversation as he sat enjoying his ice-cream. There was something familiar about the two of them. He knew he had seen the woman before, but as she constantly kept her back turned towards him, there wasn’t much he could base himself on to identify her. And the man… also the man looked familiar to him, even if his face was completely hidden in the shadows of his hat. 

“The house is so beautiful, darling,” the excited voice of the woman came, “I can’t wait to show it to you. You’ll love it. Did I tell you that it has an orchard?”

“About five times… and a couple of times in an owl”.

“You exaggerate,” she laughed, planting a playful kiss on his lips, “And there’s room for a pond”. 

“What would you like to have a pond for?”

That voice… that deep, slightly sarcastic voice. Ron had heard it a thousand times before, many years ago, in a dungeon at Hogwarts, but that was impossible… 

And yet…, that slender, even skinny build, the black clothes… 

He mentally shook his head. It had to be a coincidence 

“To grow gillyweed… and water lilies and anything else we can use in our potions, of course”. 

Potions! Ron’s head shot up; his ice-cream was instantly forgotten. 

This couldn’t be a coincidence anymore. 

He sat staring at the woman, trying feverishly to put a name or a face on her and then, just as she slightly turned towards him to grab her glass of wine and sip from it, her name hit him like a hammer.

Billie Matthews! Fred’s ex-girlfriend. 

God, she looked gorgeous in her black, sleeveless dress that uncovered more than half of her long legs, her even longer hair, of which a couple of stresses were playfully tied together, and her boots. Still as stylish as she used to be. She had to be in her late twenties now, but she looked more beautiful than ever.

But who was the bloke she was so intimate with…?

Someone who resembled Snape, that was for sure. He remembered how she had had rows with Fred about Snape when they were graduating… or rather when she graduated and Fred and George escaped from Hogwarts. He couldn’t remember why it was, but he vaguely remembered discussions during which she clearly chose Snape’s side. 

Funny… and now she was obviously seeing someone who greatly resembled him. 

“We can have a look at it tomorrow, if you like”, the man suggested, “Although I am still not convinced that we should do it”. 

“There’s news on that subject. Madame Mallemour hinted at a Defense Against the Dark Arts-position that would become vacant in a few weeks”. 

“In a few weeks?” snorted the man, “I’m in the middle of promoting my essay. I cannot refuse to give lectures, now that it has so enthusiastically been welcomed”. 

“We don’t really need the money, darling,” the woman said, putting a comforting hand on his arm “You can dedicate yourself to your research instead of teaching if you prefer to do that”. 

“I wonder if we should stay in France then…” the man hesitated. 

“Would you like to leave it? I thought you loved it there”. 

“I do. I am merely worried about the constant travelling to Britain”. 

“I’m still stuck at Beauxbatons, darling. Besides, missing you always gives me something to look forward to when you come back. And I find your absence quite comfortable at times”. 

“Thank you”, he said ironically.

“You know what I mean, my love,” She gave him another kiss, “You need your own time too, don’t you. And you haven’t seen the house yet. A house of that size with such a big garden would be unaffordable here. Besides… well, we’ll come to that later. Shall we go home now?”

“France? Or your parents’ home?”

“My parents’ home, of course,” Billie laughed. “Oh, Severus, you’re priceless!”

With a loud clatter, the ice-cream spoon fell to the ground but Ron wasn’t even aware of it. He sat openly staring at them in shock. 

He had to be dreaming! It couldn’t possibly be! 

But then he thought of the first days after Voldemort’s death… the hullabaloo about Snape’s disappeared body… the theories about the snake Nagini having eaten him, when Harry, Hermione and himself knew for sure that the snake had nowhere come near the dead body. She had only killed him with a lethal bite. 

Could it be that the bite had not been lethal after all? Could it be that Snape had come through? But how was that possible when Harry had seen him die in his very hands? 

Was the broad-rimmed hat deliberately used to hide Snape’s face? It was a warm day to wear such a hat in the first place. And Billie… Billie had always defended Snape. Had she been in love with him? 

The man at the other table had now come to his feet. 

It was him all right. The same height; the same attire; the black, lank hair sticking out from under the hat. 

Snape… or whoever he was… told Billie that he was going to settle the bill inside and Billie smiled and finished her wine. 

He had to know. 

“Hello, Billie”. 

The face that looked up at him was Billie’s all right, and so were the dark-blue eyes that lit up and the broad smile she displayed. 

“Ron!” She came to her feet to give him a hug, “Jeez… that’s a long time ago! You haven’t changed a bit!”

“Nor have you” smiled Ron. He had to admit that his brother had had an excellent taste. “Where have you been hiding all these years?”

“In France,” she smiled. 

“And now back in the UK?”

“No not really…” she said, “I’m teaching Potions at Beauxbatons. We’re now looking for a bigger house there”. 

“We?”

“My… partner and I”. 

“I see…” said Ron, “He looks rather familiar, doesn’t he?”

“To me, he definitely does”, she said evasivaly. 

“Oh to me too, you know… “ said Ron good-naturedly, “You know I recognized him. It’s him, isn’t it?”

Billie cast an uncertain glance back to the door through which Snape had disappeared, but there wasn’t any sign of him yet. 

“Look, Ron,” she sighed, “You haven’t seen anything, right? You haven’t seen me. And you definitely haven’t seen who I was with”. 

“But why?” asked Ron, “Why are you hiding him? If he is who I think he is…”

“… who you’re sure he is” she corrrected him

“Snape, in other words, then there’s nothing to be afraid of, is there? He’s a hero now!”

“Exactly!” said Billie firmly, “And he has absolutely no ambition of playing that role. He never has. And he never will”. 

Meawhile, Severus had come out of the ice-cream parlour and froze to the spot when he noticed who Billie was talking to. Then he turned on his heels and with long strides legged it for the bookshop next door. 

Billie sighed again. 

“You see?”. 

 “All right,” said Ron after a while, “I can understand that. A lot of rubbish has been written about him. But you can’t stop me from telling Harry… or Hermione … <i>in private</i>”. 

Billie shook her head. “I don’t see why you should want to do that”. 

“I’ve always confided in Harry and Hermione. Throughout this whole war and everything else we’ve been through. You can’t stop me from doing that again”. 

“That’s right, I can’t stop you,” admitted Billie, “But what is it exactly that you want to achieve with it? Apart from the fun of telling an amazing and unbelievable story?”. 

“Harry was saved by him, and has Snape to thank for his victory. The least he could do is thank him for that”. 

“I’m sure Severus is very much aware of how much Harry is indebted to him. He won’t need Harry to remind him of that”, she said firmly. 

But when she saw the hurt expression in Ron’s eyes she lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“Sorry, that sounded rude”, she said, “But it’s the truth. You have to understand, Ron. Harry is not his best memory in his, for the largest part, quite miserable life”.

“I’m sure you have made his life a lot more worthwhile lately”. 

She smiled. “Thank you. I hope so. And he has done the same with mine, but still. You can’t expect him to be friends with Harry just because they have been on the same side all along. Harry’s mere existence has always been, and will probably always be, a painful fact”. 

Ron nodded. He understood completely. Suppose Rose had been the daughter Hermione had had with Victor Krum. Would he despise her as much as Snape had despised Harry and, at the same time, have shown the same loyalty Snape had shown towards Harry? He wasn’t so sure about the latter if he wanted to be very honest. 

“All right, I may share this with Hermione, and even Harry, but I’ll make sure they leave you both alone”, he finally said, “They will understand”.

Billie nodded. 

“But before you leave, I would like to tell you something”, he added. “And I suppose you’ll judge for yourself whether you should tell Professor Snape about it or not”. 

“What is it?”. 

“My sister Ginny is married to Harry”. 

“Yes, I know. Your mum told me”. 

“Yes, well… the thing is… Ginny has just given birth to their second child”. 

“Oh…” said Billie, and smiled, “Your mother told me it was on their way. So how did it go?”

“Good. It’s a boy”. 

“A second boy then? Super. I suppose your mum will get in touch with me soon but send them my regards anyway”. 

“They called him Albus Severus”.

A deep silence fell, during which Billie’s eyes had doubled their size and the sensitive mouth had fallen open in astonishment. Then, slowly, the dark-blue eyes filled with tears. 

She looked down at her manicured hands. 

“Thank you,” she muttered nearly soundlessy, for her throat had suddenly constricted. Ron shuffled uncomfortably with his shoe “It would be great if you could tell him that”. 

Billie nodded, “I will… “ 

For a moment they stood in silence and then she smiled, “I can’t promise you that, in turn, we will call our son ‘Harry’ though, if a boy it’s going to be”.

Ron looked up at her in wonder. 

“Is it… are you…?”

“Yes, “ she smiled radiantly, “and he doesn’t know that yet. So I hope you’ll understand that I will first inform him about that before I mention Albus Severus Potter”. 

“I do”, grinned Ron. 

“Well, I have to go now,” she kissed him on both his cheeks, which was very much the French way. “Say hello to your family. Especially your mum… She has known all along, you know. And your dad too of course”. 

“What?” asked Ron, somewhat confused. 

“About Severus”. 

It was now his turn to stare at her open-mouthed, “She did?!” he asked incredulously, “But then… all these years…?”

“She has pretended she didn’t,” Billie completed the sentence for him, “And she knows very well why she has done so… so please…?”

“I promise”. 

“Good,” she smiled, looking around, “Has he gone to the bookshop?”

“Yes, he hasn’t come out of it yet”. 

“Thought so,” she grinned, “Take care, Ron”. 

“You too. And good luck with the baby!”

 

Another ten years later 

 

4

 

 “Allow me, “ said Professor McGonnagle galantly as the gargoyle leapt aside and she lead the way towards the moving staircase that had come into view. 

Billie couldn’t help thinking of the very last time she had taken these stairs, which was on that- for Severus and so many other people- fatal evening. How long had it been now? Seventeen… no, nearly eighteen years ago, but it stayed edged in her memory as if it had happened only the day before.

As she followed her daughter and the Headmistress further up the stairs, she became increasingly nervous and she couldn’t quite put the finger on the exact reason for that, except perhaps for the idea of being back here, with her old schoolmistress who was seated in the Headmaster’s chair – Severus’s chair - with whom she was going to discuss the future of her – their – daughter.

“Please be seated, ladies,” said McGonnagle, “May I offer you a drink?”

Caeolin shook her head but when she caught her mother’s eye quickly replied “No, thank you” and Billie asked for a glass of water. Her discomfort always left her with a mouth as dry as cork.

And that didn’t improve when, as she followed the elder woman’s wand movements – her eyes suddenly met the painted black ones of her husband. She received a slight shock and quickly looked back to her hostess.

“How can I help you, Mrs Matthews?” asked Professor McGonnagle, who seemed to have missed this small incident. “I have to admit that your letter was rather vague, but I believe you wanted to have a word about your daughter’s education, did you not?”

“Yes, Professor,” said Billie, copying the Headmistress’ switch back to formal speech. The last time they had spoken, which was when McGonnagle had tested her animagus skills, they had been on first-name terms. “I do hope you don’t have any objections to Caeolin’s being present during this conversationn”.“Not at all,” said Professor McGonnagle politely, “Even if it is somewhat unusual”. 

“Well, yes, I thought it might be,” said Billie, “Still, we think it’s important for her to feel the atmosphere of the school she may or may not choose for her education. We both think our child should feel at home in a place where she will spend such an important part of her life”. 

“Of course,” said McGonnagle who sat looking at the subject of their discussion in fascination. She knew perfectly well what Caeolin was staring at, but she wondered why the child should be so interested in Snape’s portrait. Surely, there couldn’t be link?

Billie followed her gaze and with a tiny cough forced her daughter’s attention back to herself and the lady opposite them. 

The girl blushed slightly as she realized how she had very nearly given herself away.

“I can’t help being somewhat surprised at your formulation, Mrs Matthews,” said Professor McGonnagle, “Children don’t usually <i>choose</i> to study at Hogwarts. I would say it is the other way round, even if we do receive the occasional refusal to an invitation”. 

“Of course,” said Billie, “Forgive me if I sounded a bit pretentious. The thing is, in our case, I do think our children have a choice, and we think it’s only fair that they should have a say in the school we choose for them. 

“You see, although my husband and I are British, we live abroad, in France, and we therefore assumed an invitation might be arriving from Beaubâtons rather than Hogwarts”. 

“I see…” said McGonnagle, “I have to admit that I checked the list of future students after I had received your letter but I couldn’t find anyone by that first name. Caeolin, I believe you are called?” The latter was addressed to the child who had just been wondering if she couldn’t risk another glance at her father’s portrait without being caught in the act, “And what is your family name again?”

“Matthews,” said Billie before Caeolin could embarrass herself. The girl wasn’t at all a skilled lier. She couldn’t be one with someone like Severus around. “She may be registered under a different name but I will have to ask you to use <i>my</i> name instead of her father’s”. 

For a brief moment, Mc Gonnagle looked every bit her old, severe self from Billie’s schooldays again. She didn’t at all like the bending of rules to the wishes of parents. But then she caught Caeolin staring at the same spot behind her again and her curiosity got the upper hand. 

“Do you know this man, Miss… Matthews?” 

The dark eyes instantly shot back to the elder lady and for a moment, the child was at a complete loss for words. 

McGonnagle’s eyes travelled from Caeolin to Billie and back to the girl. “Are you in any way familiar with Professor Snape?”

At that instant, Billie understood that there was no point in hiding the truth from the Headmistress any longer. McGonnagle was of course far too clever to not see a link when it was staring her straight into the face.

“Caeolin, can you excuse us for a minute?” asked Billie, “Is there anywhere she can go, Professor?”

“Why don’t you wait on the stairs until we call you, Miss Matthews,” suggested McGonnagle, “Don’t go wandering through the castle on your own. You may be lost in minutes”.

“I won’t, Professor,” said Caeolin as she got to her feet, “I promise”. 

After the girl had closed the door behind her, McGonnagle smiled. 

“She is a sweet girl, is she not? Or am I wrong and is she up to mischief anyway?”

Billie shook her head, “No, not at all,” she said, “She doesn’t break any promises, if that is what you mean”. And that was definitely true. The girl had a very outspoken character and an iron will that frustrated the whole family at times, but there was no wickedness or dishonesty in her. 

She shifted a little in her chair and shot a quick glance at the portrait Caeolin had been staring at as if, in the silent image of her husband, she sought support for the revelation she was about to make. As opposed to the other portraits in the room, this one didn’t move an inch. It seemed to be an ordinary, muggle portrait.

“Severus is Caeolin’s father,” she finally said.

Professor McGonnagle who wasn’t the worst at receiving unexpected news without showing any surprise, was now openly staring at her in astonishment. 

“But… “ and Billie was sure the Headmistress was making a quick calculation now, “But that’s impossible”. 

Billie shook her head. “As opposed to what is generally believed, Severus was not killed on the evening of Voldemort’s downfall”.

In the heavy silence that followed, it became clear that McGonnagle found this piece of information extremely difficult to digest. In fact, she was staring at Billie as if the younger woman had completely gone off her rocker.

“But… it can’t be,” she finally uttered, “Potter… Potter saw him… die… He was there. Snape practically passed away in his hands”. 

“Very nearly so, yes,” said Billie, “Quite a few people had given up on him, the specialists at St Mungo’s not in the least. I might have done so myself if I hadn’t so stubbornly refused to accept the truth. And it took an awful long time for him to decide whether he wanted to live or not, but … well, he did choose to live, ultimately…” 

“There was quite some commotion when nobody had found his body,” Professor MCGonnagle admitted. 

Billie nodded. “We left the country after some time. As soon as hell broke loose in the press, we knew that Severus would never have a moment’s peace when he had left the hospital. Severus was still heavily recovering from his injuries and he didn’t need that rubbish to pull him through. Furthermore, as opposed to the hero-status he seemed to have acquired, he is <i>not</i> proud of what he did. We have more or less lived undercover ever since”. 

“So you have kept his… <i>living</i>… a secret all this time?”

Billie nodded. “Apart from Molly and perhaps also Arthur Weasley and my closest relatives and friends, noone knows”.

The Headmistress crossed her arms and sat thinking for a while. 

“I still don’t understand,” she finally said, “That day… you know… when you came here to talk about your animagus skills, you were attacked by Snape, were you not?”. 

“No,” Billie corrected her, “I was attacked by the Carrows. And quite severely at that. But Severus came at my rescue and took care of my injuries”.

“So you knew all along…”

“Yes,” said Billie, “I did”. 

“And you were there when he escaped from Hogwarts on that fatal night?…”

“When he was attacked by yourself? Yes… don’t worry…” she added quickly when she saw McGonnagle blush in embarrasment, “You did what you had to do. But it was close… Severus could only barely escape”.

“Nonsense… Snape’s a much more powerful wizard than I am”.

“Not when it comes to fighting,” Billie said firmly, “And anyway, that’s hardly the point now, is it. The fact remains that he’s alive, and relatively happily settled in France with his family, and our daughter is now ready for Hogwarts or any other wizarding school”.

“Yes indeed. How much is Caeolin aware of her father’s history?”

“Not very,” said Billie, “We have never told her about his role in the war or Voldemort’s downfall”. 

“Why is that?”

Billie shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “First of all, Severus is still struggling a lot with his past, so the last thing he likes to do is talk about it, especially to his children. In fact, he hardly discussed it with me even". 

McGonnagle nodded.

“And whatever crap has been talked about him in the papers and anywhere else is either nowhere near the truth, or too private to discuss in public. So he doesn’t want his children to hear any of this”. 

“But they <i>will</i> hear about it,” said McGonnagle, “It can’t be avoided once they come out into the wizarding world. Everyone knows his name, and everyone has an opinion”. 

“Which is why exactly I do not want you to use his name in her file”, said Billie firmly, “Matthews hardly rings a bell, but <i>his</i> last name will automatically lead to awkward questions and reactions”. 

McGonnagle shook her head. “Even then… I don’t think you can hide the truth for her, Billie. If you don’t tell her his story yourself, she is bound to hear all sorts of things from other people, and those facts may not always be a hundred percent in line with reality”. 

Billie sighed. “I know,” she said, “But Severus has to do it himself, and he has to be ready for it”. 

Then she bit her lip. “Do you think it likely that the subject will pop up in an average conversation amongst students?”

“Well,” Mc Gonnagle smiled, “Voldemort’s downfall and Potter’s and Snape’s role in that is of course dealt with in <i>History of Magic</i>”. 

It was Billie’s turn now to stare at the elder lady in astonishment. 

“You didn’t think this was left out, did you?” asked McGonnagle, “It is after all the most important event in the last half of our century”.   

“Erm…” Billie was at a loss for words now. Of course it made sense! But the idea of having her husband as a subject in <i>History of Magic </i>sounded too fantastic for words. She thought of Caeolin and how strange it must seem to her daughter to hear her father discussed in a subject at school. McGonnagle was right. They had to urgently tell the children about Severus’s past. Even choosing a different school wouldn’t change a lot. 

“I’ll have a word with Severus,” she finally said, “But can we still rely on your discretion when it comes to Caeolin’s ancestors?”

“Of course,” said McGonnagle, “I still recall vividly the eagerness with which the popular press jumped on the subject of Snape after his death. I suppose quite a lot of that still lingers somewhere in their readers’ minds, and, as you said yourself, those are things too private to be discussed in public. So yes, you can count on my discretion, also when it comes to my colleagues”. 

“Good,” said Billie and she got to her feet, “I think Caeolin is gradually losing her patience now. I’m not sure what our decision will be, but we will make sure it is quickly made”. 

“Very well…” said McGonnagle who rose together with her, “But there is one thing I need to mention to you… because it might influence your, or rather your husband’s decision”. 

“And what is that?” frowned Billie.

“Harry Potter’s son James is a second-year here. And his younger son is coming in September too. He would be in Caeolin’s year”.

“Oh…” said Billie. 

Of course, she hadn’t thought of that, but the Potters had a child Caeolin’s age. “Is that… Albus Severus?”

McGonnagle nodded. “I didn’t know you had heard his name, but yes, that’s exactly who he is”. 

“So we will have to inform Caeolin… “ Billie sighed, “All right. Leave it to me. Thank you for reminding me anyway. Severus might indeed have serious objections against Caeolin sharing classes with one of the Potter boys”.

“There are all kinds of old acquaintances here,” said McGonnagle, “Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger have their daughter here, as do the other Weasleys”. 

“I don’t think they are the biggest problem”. 

“I know,” she shook hands with Billie, “I would like to ask you to send my regards to Severus, but perhaps I should have a word with him in person”. 

“Yes, I think that would be a better idea… in due time”, admitted Billie, “I do hope you will have the opportunity to sort a few things out very soon, but I’m not optimistic”. 

“We shall see”. 

And with that, McGonnagle opened the door to the stairs where Caeolin sat waiting for them with a mixture of impatience and curiosity clearly reflected on her face. 

 

“For God’s sake, Severus, can’t you for once and for all bury the past? You have a family that adores you; a splendid house and garden; you’re highly respected in scientific circles, both in the wizarding and the muggle world – even if it is under a false name - and you’re a separate chapter in the History of Magic!”

“I do not see what any of this has to do with my refusal to let our daughter befriend a Potter?”

“Who says they will be friends? If they inherited only a fraction of their fathers’ animosity they will not even be able to stay in the same room together!” Billie exclaimed in frustration, “And besides, what <i>if</i>! You can’t prevent your children, nor anyone else to be friends with anyone! They have to make their own choices”. 

“There is a difference between letting matters take their course and pushing them towards a particular option”. 

“If you think you can prevent her from running into him, or any other Potter, by hiding Caeolin in Beauxbatons instead of sending her to Hogwarts, you’re hopelessly naïve, Severus. The wizarding world is tiny. There is always going to be a time when she meets Harry, or anyone else from that family”. 

She jumped up from her chair, highly irritated now.

“I don’t understand you, Severus. The boy was named after you!”

“And what difference does that make?” he replied with a dangerous flicker in his eyes. 

“Children are never named after their parents’ enemies!’ she said exasperated, “If Harry gave his son – <i>Lily’s grandson, by the way</i> – your name, he did it out of deepest respect. Only you are too stubborn to bury the hatched and stick to a tradition rather than to use common sense!”

And with that she stormed out of the room, straight into the music chamber, from where a couple of seconds later the deafening racket of a harpsichord that was more or less hammered to pieces filled the house… a thing Severus had come to know as the illustration of his wife’s absolute fury. 

 

 

 

 September of that same year (2006)

 

Caeolin stood nervously looking at the hundreds of students that were milling around the gleaming Hogwarts Express. 

Billie reassuringly squeezed her hand. 

“Don’t worry, darling,” she said, “You will soon make friends. You have always had loads of them at school”. 

“What if they ask me awkward questions about daddy?”

“They won’t…” muttered her father, nearly completely hidden from view by his hat and the large umbrella he was holding, “As long as you don’t mention your real name”

“I can’t lie to all my friends,” grumbled Caeolin, “You always told me I shouldn’t lie”. 

“You’re not lying,” said Severus, “Merely being discrete about me by using your mother’s name. You are, after all, half your mother’s”. 

“Caeolin,” said Billie, “if you have a friend you really know you can trust, I mean a really really best friend, like Emily is to me and Julie is to your dad, then you can of course tell them who your parents are and invite them to our place”. 

She calmly met her husband’s rather unfriendly glance. They still hadn’t sorted everything out yet, but Billie had decided to give it a rest. There was plenty of time to deal with whatever popped up whenever it arose.

They helped Caeolin heave her trunk and owl into one of the carriages and gave her a last, big hug. An anxiously-looking girl, who was hanging out of the same carriage to say goodbye to her parents too, shot hopeful glances at Caeolin. When the two girls met each other’s eyes, just as the train hooted and set itself in motion, Caeolin smiled and the two girls disappeared in search of a free compartment.

Billie took her husband’s arm when the train made a bent and disappeared out of their  view. She smiled when he tore his gaze away from it and met hers. 

“She will be all right”, she said. 

“Naturally,”, he replied but the expression in his eyes was a lot less confident. 

 

“What are you going to do, Harry?” asked Ron.

“I don’t know”. 

“Do you think his presence is a signal?”

“A signal that he can be approached, you mean?” Harry shrugged. “I think he’s just here to see his daughter off. And judging from the way he’s covered up, I don’t think he wants to be recognized”. 

“Still, he’s here and it’s your only chance to talk to him,” said Ron. 

“Hm…”

“What’s going on with you two?” asked Ginnie who was now joining them with Hermione, “You look so serious?”

“Yes, why didn’t you come and say hello to Bill and Fleur?” asked Hermione, “They’ve only just come back from Canada”.

“There goes your chance… “ said Ron who looked pointedly at the couple under the umbrella who were just about to disappear through the gate, “He’s leaving”. 

“Who is?” asked Ginny, “Hang on…isn’t that Billie?”

“And isn’t <i>he</i>…?” asked Hermione, meeting her husband’s eye. Ron nodded. 

“You had better catch up with them, Harry,” said Hermione, “You have never had the chance to thank him properly”. 

“I know, I know…” said Harry. “All right, I’m off. Wish me luck”. 

“George’s got the perfect remedy for a black eye,” grinned Ron, a little nervously. 

Harry pulled an ugly face and legged it for the gate. 

 

“Hello Billie…” he said to their retrieving backs, “… And goodmorning Professor”.

They both turned around but there was no surprise on either of their faces. They had probably expected this to happen.

“Harry”, smiled Billie. Severus said nothing. 

“You probably didn’t want to reveal yourself, Professor” said Harry, “and I’m sorry I am approaching you anyway but I could not let you leave without having spoken to you”. 

“Never mind, Potter,” said Severus, in his oh so familiar sarcastic voice, “An increasing number of people know I am alive nowadays, and now that you are addressing me here, one might as well have put the spotlights on my person and announced my return in the Daily Prophet”. 

“Not really, Professor, I cast the occaeco spell”. 

“Have you turned us invisible, Potter?”

“Merely undetectable. Anything to keep us out of the Prophet, to be honest”. 

“Well that at least is a view we share. I am amazed”.

Harry very wisely chose to ignore that remark. 

“Professor, I have never had the chance to thank you for all the things you have done for me… and for the wizading world in general of course”. 

“You know why it was done, Potter. There is no need for you to thank me”. 

“I believe there is, Professor. No matter what the reason was, without you Voldemort would never have been finished.”

“Well in that case I suppose I should thank <i>you</i> in return. For finishing the job and for clearing my name”. 

“It was the least I could do. And now that you have returned to the wizarding world I am particularly pleased that you will get the respect you deserve”. 

“I am afraid I have to correct you there, Potter. As it is, I do not intend to return to the wizarding world; at least not in Britain. You have never seen me”. 

“I understand,” said Harry, “Well, thank you anyway and for giving me the chance to speak to you”. 

“My pleasure…” it sounded ironic, of course, but less than it would have done in former days.

Harry stretched his hand towards him and Severus shook it. 

“Erm… one more thing, Professor. You may know that we are still struggling hard to gather evidence on some Death Eaters, especially the ones who were closest to Voldemort”. 

“Yes…?” said Severus, a touch of suspicion in his eyes. 

“I was wondering… “ Harry decided to reformulate himself when he saw the black eyes narrow dangerously. “Your testimony would be very valuable”.“I will do nothing of the sort, Potter. I have done my part,” said Severus resolutely, “Furthermore, contrary to the times when I spied on Voldemort, my life and the people being a part of it have become dear to me, and I do not intend to risk it by giving evidence against the most dangerous criminals this world has ever seen”. 

“Noone knows that you are alive, Professor,” Harry hastened to say, “and of course, the Auror office will give you special protection”. 

“If I am not alive, how do you think I should give evidence then?”

“You could have kept a diary,” said Harry, “Noone has to know that, in fact, it was written nineteen years after your death”. 

Severus took a deep breath and slowly let the air escape from between his teeth. “That, to me, sounds like a very unorthodox method for an Auror to use, Potter”. 

“Unorthodox, yes,” admitted Harry, “but in my opinion definitely not a case of forgery. No matter how, the evidence will be given by yourself, and I suppose based on true facts”. 

Severus studied his eager face for a while. 

Potter had matured, and even if he looked even more a copy of his father than he used to as a boy, Severus couldn’t say that he disliked the younger man. Now that the hatred had disappeared from his face, Potter showed indeed similarities with his gentle-hearted mother, as Dumbledore had repeatedly pointed out to him.

“You don’t have to take a decision now, Professor,” said Harry, “You can contact me any time. Besides, no matter what you decide, I am already forever in your debt”. 

“How do I contact you?” asked Severus, “And n<i>o,Potter,  I am not promising anything!</i>”

“My owls are checked by security. I think you’d better write me a muggle letter which you may send to this PO Box”. Harry handed him a small card with his initials and the number. 

“I fully understand it if you prefer to stay undercover and enjoy a quiet life,” he said, “I for my part, however, have been set the task of bringing all his Death Eaters to justice, which is one of my most important goals in life. I may be asking too much from you if I ask you to help me with that. But I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t truly believe that this is what the wizarding world deserves, after all the pain and deaths it has suffered”. 

He thanked Severus once more, undid the occaeco spell, greeted Severus formally and Billie with a warm smile, which she immediately returned, and left. 

Severus looked back at his wife when she grabbed his arm again and muttered, with the tiniest of twinkle in his eyes, “What are you beaming at?”

 

 

Two years later

 

Severus stirred the coffee in the cup that was so minuscule it could barely hold the spoon, and started to read his paper, when he was interrupted by the tobacco shop owner’s wife.

“Ah Monsieur Snape, vous voilà enfin!”

“Madame Blanche”, Severus greeted her.

“Et Madame votre épouse, elle va bien?”

“En pleine santé,” said Severus. 

“What have I heard?” continued Mme Blanche “Are you going back to England?”

“Scotland,” Severus corrected her, “Yes, you have heard correctly”. 

“But why, Monsieur Snape? Vous êtes si bien ici en France”. 

“I know,” said Severus, “and it grieves me to leave too. But our whole life is happening in the UK now. My wife has been appointed as a teacher at the school where are two children study, and I am stepping into a project with our Ministry”. 

“Alors vous avez raison,” said the woman. 

She spent some more time expressing what a pity it would be to lose such nice people in the village, but how important it was to be close to one’s family, and do the things one had to do, when Alun entered the shop, carrying the pot of varnish he had bought for the old Comet his father had given him.

“Did you tell her we’re leaving?” asked the boy, “Have you told her why?”

“I didn’t mention the trials against the Death Eaters, of course,” said Severus, “Nor what subject mummy will be teaching”. 

The boy grinned. “It’ll be great to have us all close to Hogwarts, dad,” he said, “France is my home, but being able to go home to you, mum and Caeolin after school instead of being locked up inside is great”. 

“A boarding school like Hogwarts is at least as great”. 

“In your time perhaps. But more and more students are going home in the evenings now. I have never liked being resident”.

“I know”. 

“And our house is going to be beautiful”. 

“You mean you’re looking forward to playing quidditch on the lawn outside”. 

“Yes, especially with Marcel and Oliver living next door”, the boy grinned. 

“Dad?”

“Hm…”

“Will you enjoy working with Harry Potter?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” asked Severus, his eyes still on the paper.

“Well… I don’t know. You never talk a lot about him, do you? I thought that perhaps you didn’t like him”. 

“Potter and I share a long history”. 

“I know. They’re teaching us that at school”. 

“Yes, well… What you learn at school is all you have to know. And remember not to mention to anyone who I am and what I will be doing at the Ministry”. 

“I won’t. Oh, there’s mum and Caeolin. Shall we go then?”

“Yes. It’s high time we started to pack. Merci Madame Blanche. A très bientôt”. 

“Au revoir, Monsieur Snape. And don’t forget to come and say goodbye before you leave”. 

Severus closed the door behind him and took over the shopping bags from his wife. They were ready to leave now. It was time to return to Britain’s wizarding world.

 

 

THE END


End file.
